Stallion on the Fly
by fowl68
Summary: The decades after the war were hard-with rebuilding, reforming treaties and those that the war left behind trying to find their place in a world that doesn't need them any longer. Post TP Prequel to Ride Forever


**Disclaimer: **I don't own anything pertaining to Zelda, not even the games. Well, except for Ocarina of Time.

**Author's Note: **These are gonna be a bunch of one-shots or drabbles connected to my old one-shot Ride Forever.

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_War does not determine who is right - only who is left. ~Bertrand Russell  
_

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It was difficult to see properly anymore. Link knew that Ganondorf had been defeated, knew that the Twili realm had crept back into itself, but he could still see it; could still see threatening darkness, couldn't see a normal pig anymore, only the enormous boars that had charged across Hyrule Plain. Even Ordon, Link thought, even his home village couldn't chase the haunting mirages away.

Link couldn't see the villagers as they used to be. The wolf that he could still feel sometimes saw the hatred and fear in their eyes, saw the way that they accused him of stealing their children. Goat herding wouldn't—couldn't—satisfy him anymore. He longed for the open meadows, the dusty valleys, lush waterfalls and the rough mountains. He missed the variety of people he had met, the Gorons, the Zoras, everyone. It felt odd to see only the gently tanned Hylian faces of the villagers.

Link would still be a goat herder, he knew that. It was all he could do now. What does a warrior do when the fighting is finished? The stories never say. They say that the hero marries the princess, lives happily ever after. There was no princess in this story. Well, not one that he'd want to marry. Zelda had offered him a place with the Royal Knights, but Link couldn't imagine being cooped up like that. The castle was grand, yes, but goddesses, he felt claustrophobic in there! The windows were all high up and let slanted light into the room, making it feel like he was in the bottom of a very deep well.

The spring in the Faron Woods had become his favorite refuge. Link would sit and just listen, sometimes even unknowingly thinking aloud just to hear a human voice. And sometimes, Link would hear a sarcastic response in a voice that wasn't his; a higher voice that came from the shadows.

Epona cantered to him. Link stroked between her eyes automatically. He connected easier with animals now. The goats weren't much trouble anymore, though they did get a little skittish on occasion. His hawk soared overhead, a familiar companion. Link felt a twinge of envy. His hawk could fly wherever he wanted, could go beyond the borders that had popped back into place as soon as the danger was gone. No one visited to other villages save for business. He hadn't sat in Telma's bar since five months ago on the day before he came back to Ordon.

" 'S not healthy to wallow." Rusl told him.

Link didn't reply. Wasn't entirely sure he had a response. After all, wallowing didn't describe what he was doing in any case. Musing, deliberating, reflecting; any one of those. But not wallowing, which implied regret and sorrow. That wasn't it at all.

Rusl sighed and sat beside the young man, feeling the sense of déjà vu. This was where it had all started those many months ago. "Feelin' lost? Like you don't know what to do?"

Link made a so-so motion.

"I got a letter from the Princess. It came in this morning." Rusl pulled the letter from his pack and offered it to the blonde. Link took it and opened it, reading numbly.

The numbness faded some as he read the neat cursive. Zelda had lost another ambassador. The roads were still moderately dangerous from rogue monsters still roaming. Zelda was asking if he would want to be an ambassador. Limited time in the palace, spending a lot of time on the road, decent income, though Link didn't much care for that part. He'd made enough money traveling with Midna.

Rusl leaned back on his hands. "Gonna be gone for a while?"

Link nodded.

"If you have the time, drop by Telma's and say hello to her for me?"

Another nod and Link slowly got to his feet. That seemed to be the only way he could move these days was slowly. Epona trotted after him, loyal as ever. He'd have to find her saddlebags, the ones two inches from the edge of the shelves he kept by his window. He needed comfortable riding clothes, and sturdier ones than the too big white tunic and his old, loose shorts; like the clothes he hadn't worn for five months, the thick forest green tunic, the chainmail; the pointed cap that kept his head surprisingly warm in freezing temperatures and cool in the midst of a volcano, the sturdy leather boots that were worn and creased.

Link slipped into the clothing, _his_ clothing, feeling the familiar cool weight of the chainmail against his skin and he tugged on the knee high boots. Standing, he looked at the mirror he kept by the door and, for the first time in five months, he actually felt like himself.


End file.
